Savior
by TheSkyKingNH
Summary: AU: Modern. Even a hero needs a savior. Driven to the edge, Naruto desperately needs hope to cling onto. Something, anything to keep him from doing the unthinkable. A shred of light is all he needs to fill his eyes with hope. An act of kindness to bring him out from the depths he's buried beneath. Some one, anyone to see him for who he is, not for what he can't control. T for now.
1. Chapter 1

**Arbitrary Author's Note: **

**Alright, so this story is pretty dark. Really dark actually. And this is just the beginning. But hopefully there are those out there who will enjoy it! Not my first fic, but we'll say it is because the last one I wrote was a couple years ago, and I like to think I've improved handsomely. **

**This fic features many dark aspects and we see our beloved number-one knuckle-head ninja in some of the darkest times he's been in. I took the story down this road because I personally know people and have experienced a degree of what goes on in this fic myself. Obviously I blow it out of proportion with this story, but hey, we'll see how you enjoy it.**

**I never support self-harm ever, and if you ever find yourself thinking too darkly, or you find you have no one to talk to, call someone. If you're Canadian and you're a youth suffering from bullying, depression or anything like that, call kids help-phone: 1-800-668-6868**

**Constructive criticism is strongly encouraged. Help me write better so you can have a better story. Drop a review if you fancy. **

He sat on the curb late at night; a bottle and a dart in his hands, the weight of the world on his shoulders and the pain of cursed solitude in his heart. The rain poured down heavily that night. Perhaps the heavens wept for him? It would be nice if someone wept for him, other than himself. Would it be nice? Or would he feel bad about it? There's some ponder fuel for him.

Gun down his pants, razor in his pocket, at least he thought so; could never tell with those ripped up jeans. Shitty thrift store stuff. He had no clue why people ran to them after that hot song he heard on the radio all the time. Shit was useless, not worth the 50 yen he paid for them. Oh well, now he was hip and not just poor.

Took a swig from his bottle, cursed the world. Took a drag from his dart and stomped the thing out. Took out the razor blade from his pocket; good, it _was_ still there. Knife in his right now, bit his tongue while the metal parted the flesh, crimson spilled fourth from the wound. Virgin cloth stained now, keeping pressure on the cut.

He felt alive. He felt the pain that could only be felt by being alive, that's how he knew. Beautiful, reassuring pain that was real. Not the stuff his heart told him he felt. Not the metaphysical aches of his fatigue, but the real, physical pain, and the real, physical marks on his skin. He knew now he was real. He existed, albeit meagrely. But he was real.

Another swig from the bottle cleared his mind of his existential pondering and it was empty. Smashed it on the ground and watched it shatter to pieces. Felt good, breaking it. Couldn't place his finger on why, but it felt relieving. Letting steam out maybe? More drinking.

Cracked a new one, swig, chug, break. God it felt good. Reached for his gun. Shaking hands, holding the tool to snuff all his pain away. Looked down the barrel, fingers off the trigger; more curious than anything. Contemplated what it would be like. Would it hurt? What came next?

Hands shook too much. Threw the gun away to the side, razor in right once again. Tongue between teeth once more. Cut, curse, cloth, euphoria. Repeat thrice. Blood pooled on the ground. How much? Not too much, he knew since he could see it. How much more until he blacked out? One way to find out- no, it was all or nothing at this point. He either took his fate into his own hands or he waited for god to do it for him. Wouldn't be blacking out on the curb tonight. Couldn't stand the look of hospital rooms anyways.

Picked up the gun. No more tears huh? Looked it in the eye… barrel. In the head? In the chest? Drown on blood or quick and painless? Decisions decisions.

Lit another cigarette. Dragged and contemplated his choices. All of them sounded attractive. But how did he really want to end it all? Did he want to end it all… at all? More importantly, shit, was the stove still on? What about the bathtub, did he leave that running too? That'd be trouble. Looks like he'll have to wait a little longer. Yeah, he wouldn't want to leave too big a mess before he left. That'd just be rude…

He got up and dragged his sorry ass back to his apartment. His closet really, but it was something. The street light stopped flickering after he'd left. Funny, he thought. World just catered to his mood tonight it seemed.

Got home and unlocked the door. Oh? Looks like he didn't half to, someone had already taken the liberty of unlocking the door for him. Well, breaking the door really. Not as polite a gesture. And what's this? Ransacked? Oh well, hadn't happened in a while so a fair bit was gone. Least he still had a bed. Sort of… At least he had a pile of ripped up cotton and something resembling a blanket. No pillow though, guess that was asking for too much.

Curiously, he went to go check the kitchen. Hey, what would you know, they left him some food. They took all of the good food, but left some non-perishables. And even better, they left him some of the ramen he had stored away. Nice, looks like he'll still be having breakfast tomorrow.

Opening a cabinet, he looked for his lockbox, which thank god was still where he had left it. However it did sport a few more dents than the last time he'd seen it. It still held true though, and that was enough to put a smile on his face. Really he was surprised the bandit hadn't ripped it from the wall, but maybe he was in a hurry. Or perhaps he was another vandal? Whoever he was, he left the thing relatively unharmed, and for that he was thankful.

Reassured, he found his way back to his bedroom; not a very far walk, but difficult to get to through the mess whoever had made. He felt like they left more trash than they took.

Once he got to his fluff-ball, he curled up into as comfortable a position he could, half sunk into the cotton, and wrapped himself up making a cocoon-like structure with his blankets. Dreamless sleep ensued.

She woke up early that morning. Excitement coursed through her veins as she hopped giddily from bed and ran for the bathroom, making sure to beat her little sister, who took _ages_ when she occupied it. Hoping quickly out of her night clothes and into the shower, not even bothering to wait for it to heat up, she scrubbed the days grease and grime from her body, revelling in the heavenly feeling of the hot water slamming down onto her. God she loved showers, that refreshing feeling of the water coursing over your skin, and the crisp bite of the cool air once you left. It was all so _right._

Getting out of the shower, she dried her deep purple hair. She'd always been proud of her strong head of hair. It was thick, and straight, and easily manageable. Sometimes it got in the way, but she couldn't bring herself to cut it past the middle of her back. It just felt wrong to. Never quite knew why. Maybe it was her own vanity getting the best of her? Perhaps it was something deeper, like a sentimental bond had been formed with it over the years, and she couldn't move past it. Whatever it was, she was keeping her hair.

Wrapping a towel around her body, she went back to her room to get dressed for the day. She put more than the usual amount of effort into dressing today. She wanted to make sure she left a good impression on everyone since it was her first day at her new school. And although she felt the entire situation was cliché and had totally been done like, a million times before, she still couldn't help but partake in the tradition. Clichés we cliché for a reason after all.

Yep, she would arrive at school, make a great entrance, impress all of the right people and live a happy high school career. She was going to keep clear of drama –not too clear though- and live humbly throughout the whole process. Go to a nice college, get a nice job, meet a nice man and live a nice life. She had it all planned out, down to a tee. All that depended on this success however was one tiny, itsy little first day. That if she screwed up, would damn her to the pits of social hell. No pressure right?

It all came down to this, cardigan, blouse or hoodie. She felt like she was picking her starter Pokémon. She'd half to deal with what she picked for a while until she could get her foot in the door.

Eventually after a long and hard thought on the subject, she ended up choosing a purple tank top with half done-up white and lavender jacket. Her lower half was made up in some loose fitting sports pants that stopped just shy of her ankles. Shoes were a very touchy subject, but after a long and arduous battle with herself, she settled on some generic sandals. Who was going to be looking at her feet anyways? Plus she got to show off her immaculate pedicure.

Realising that it was only seven-thirty in the morning –leaving her with and hour and a half to get to school- she figured she'd treat herself to some breakfast ramen at a stand she'd seen on her way to her orientation. It looked nice enough and it gave her something to do so she didn't anxiously count down the minutes to her big first day.

And so running out the door –and avoiding a collision with her little sister who was groggy and angry in the mornings by jumping over her and performing some crazy bouts of gymnastics that would've left any onlookers slack jawed- she slung her bag around her shoulders and grabbed her keys, all whilst rushing out the door, without even so much as greeting her father who walked by and scowled at the girls over-eagerness.

He started his day by waking up at four in the morning. Crink in his neck from sleeping on his puff-ball that night. Had better nights, but also had worse. Nothing too much to complain about.

Went to his kitchen, spotted the package of miso-pork instant ramen the merciful robber had left behind for him to eat. Boiled some water, at the humble meal and went to shower.

God how he hated showers. So cold, so annoying, getting him all wet. Hell, he wasn't even sure if the water that was coming out of the shower-head was cleaning him or getting him even dirtier. But whatever, society mandated that he shower daily, and so he complied. Maybe good hygiene would make him stick out. At the very least it would make any contact with people less painful for the both of them. Stinky wasn't a word he wanted to add to the list of adjectives that described him.

Got out of the shower, dried his golden locks –the one natural gift he was given- and cursed when the natural gift spiked on its own like it always did. Goddammit, oh well, nothing he could do about it.

Out of the washroom and dressed in another ten minutes. Dressed himself in a black and grey hoodie, thing had a swirl on it –the orange part-, was probably as close to a graphic as he was going to get. Rolled the sleeves up, looked cooler that way. He tied a blue bandana around his left wrist like he always did, scares were unappealing. Put on a pair of ripped jeans that somehow managed to not look too grungy. They fell just to his feet. Black sandals on his feet; nothing too fancy.

Four-thirty by now; just enough time to fix the door. Grabbed some screws and a hand drill and screwdriver, drilled some holes, screwed some shit, bish-bam-boom, like a brand new door.

Four-forty-five now. Only had fifteen minutes to get to his morning job. Rushed out of the house grabbing his bag and keys on the way. Made sure to lock all of the doors before he rushed down the hallway and out onto the streets.

Once he was on the street he really took off. Not too much early morning traffic so he got to the ramen stand by four-fifty-five. Dropped a hundred yen into a bum's cup. Knew the hard life, so he did what he could when he could. Was only one hundred yen, he'd make it up if no one stole from the tip-jar today. No one tipped him, but Teuchi made good money. People loved his smiling face.

Once he arrived, he immediately rushed in through the back door. Once in he was greeted by Ayame's beaming face. She loved him so much, like her own little brother. Five years difference, known him since he was a kid. Used to be a regular at the place, until he needed to make money. So they hired him. Liked the kid. Worked hard, never complained, fit right in with them. Always smiling with them, always joking. He liked it there too. He felt at home with them. As home as he could feel with anyone.

Grabbing his smock as he entered, he greeted Ayame, who greeted him back with a bear hug. Secretly loved when she did that. Nothing sexual, it was just the only embrace he ever received. Well, maybe a little sexual. Ayame was quite well endowed indeed. Shook the thoughts out of his head.

Old man greeted him, handshake and a 'how-ya-do'. Simple response. Got right to work on a batch of ramen. He was the cook alongside Teuchi. Really good at it too, world class as Teuchi said. Under appreciated artist he would say. He'd just laugh it off and continue working. He'd never believe him. No one but him ever complimented his ramen, so he assumed that it was just sub-par. Never really bother him, people kept coming back so it couldn't have tasted that bad. Tasted good enough to get over the fact it was him making it.

Always got yelled at while he worked. Not by Teuchi, he'd only yelled twice. Once when he was a kid and couldn't pay his overwhelming tab, and once again when he'd burnt a batch of ramen. Tensions were high, hot day. Immediately regretted it once he'd done it. Kept apologizing for days. He never let it get to him though. Never burnt a batch ever again.

First of the customers were in now. Two miso-pork, one teriyaki, three cold noodles and one chicken ramen order. Made them without turning around. He tried to keep himself hidden as best he could. Wore a white bandana to try to keep his unruly spikey hair down. It made him too noticeable. In a bad way. You didn't want to be noticed as him.

A couple of more orders went by and it was seven-forty-five now. A request for a breakfast special –cold soba with scrambled eggs and milk- came in. All was going according to routine, until he made the fatal mistake of turning around once he was done. His eyes were greeted with the most amazing figure he'd ever seen before him. It was as if an actual angel had come to visit him. She moved gracefully in every motion she made, even grabbing a pair of chop-sticks was smooth as silk. Her hands were that of an artists or pianists'; slim, soft yet strong. Gripped the utensils so elegantly you'd think she'd been a trained lady.

She literally took his breath away as he stared slack jawed at the awe-inspiring personification of grace itself.

She hadn't seen him yet; he could have turned around again and avoided the contact with such a divine grace. Should've just done that, felt like he was sinning just by his unworthy presence being within the same vicinity as her divine one. But he couldn't tear himself away. She was just so perfect, the way she smiled at an old man as she paid for the meal he couldn't afford. She truly was an angel.

And when she looked to him, seeing him staring with his jaw on the floor, she blushed and cutely turned ever so slightly away, still smiling. His heart rate had never been faster. He could admire this person all day, and only kind of get tired of it halfway through. But what amazed him the most, was that she hadn't yelled at him yet. Did she not know of him? Must not have, else that would be different.

Took a dive, delivered her food to her personally. Had to get more of her burned onto his retinas. Wasn't every day he say beauty like this. Every so often a particularly attractive girl might wander in, but she would either scorn him, berate him or flat out ignore him. This girl was beyond words. She acknowledged his existence. She saw him, but didn't scorn him. There was no prejudice in her eyes when she returned his gaze. They was almost… wonder.

He quickly snapped out of his trance and placed the dishes in front of the angelic girl. She smiled at him and thanked him. He was too shocked for words, so he just blushed a deep shade of red and bowed slightly, turning back to his work station. Teuchi slapped him on the back and chuckled slightly, doing nothing for the boy's blush.

After a minute or two, something unimaginable happened. Something not in a million years he would have ever expected to happen. Something that hadn't happened in so long that he forgot that it could even happen at all. Yes, someone actually started a conversation with him. Not a one sided verbal abuse, but a conversation.

"Um, excuse me" the angelic voice rang out from the angelic girl eating angelically his not so heavenly cooking.

Turning around, the boy looked at the girl and asked quizzically, "who me?" He wasn't so sure what to expect her to say to him.

"Yes you" the girl giggled lightly.

The boy blushed lightly, and asked "yeah, what's up?"

"Did you make this?" She asked.

The boy gulped deeply, she didn't sound displeased, but you never know with some people. "Uh-um… yeah, I made it. Is something wrong with it? I can fix it if you don't like" he sputtered out nervously.

The girl laughed lightheartedly and said "no no, it's nothing like that. I just mean, this is _really _good. I haven't ever had ramen that tasted this amazing" she beamed up at him.

Wait… what? What just… did I just… compliment… me… my cooking? The boy thought to himself flabbergasted.

"Wh-what?" He asked just to make sure he heard right.

"The food, it's really _really_ good. Like, the best I've had. Definitely restaurant quality.

"I told ya' boy, didn't I tell ya? You got talent kid!" Teuchi shouted from the back.

The boy had no idea how to react to this. He honestly couldn't remember a time when he was last complimented. He was so overwhelmed with pride and joy and-

"HEY YOU LITTLE SHIT, WHEN IS MY FOOD GONNA BE READY!?" An old angry man shouted violently at the blonde.

He looked down at his shoes sorrowfully, and said weakly "coming right up sir. It'll only be a minute".

The girl didn't like this at all. How the hell could someone talk to another person like that? Let alone the person making _your_ food.

"Hey, watch what you're saying! What gives you the right to treat him like that?" The girl firmly said to the sour man.

"Hey lady, don't worry about it" the boy said to the girl. "My sincerest apologies sir, your meal will be free of charge. As a token of my sincerest apologies. Please don't let my mistake ruin your morning meal sir" the boy apologized hastily. Teuchi just shook his head and Ayame went to go say something, but the boy shot her a pleading glance. She stopped and shot a challenging glance back to the boy. But he only retaliated by emphasizing his begging gaze. Ayame's eyes fell short, and she returned back to the back to finish another order, a sour taste in her mouth.

The girl behind the counter looked on in shock. How could anyone deal with something like that the way he did?

"Why did you let him do tha-" she was cut off silently when he ignored her, placing the angry man's food in front of him. The man glared menacingly at the boy, who shrunk back into the kitchen, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

Another customer shouted moments later. Something about how his soup was cold. How he demanded a refund or at least a new order. The boy remade his order once more only to have it thrown at him when he'd missed an ingredient. Teuchi threw that one out, but he wasn't the last.

Three more customers came, each with their own quarrels with the boy. All of their complaints were groundless and they seemed more to be using the boy as a punching bag. The girl could hardly take the look of it. What had this boy done to deserve such mistreatment? Why did the owners not help more? Why did the boy take it all? How could someone do that?

"Why do you let them walk all over you?" the girl pleaded.

"It can't be helped" he replied simply.

"What? You can't just let them do that!" She exclaimed. "It's not... it's just not **right**!"

Like a broken record, he repeated himself. "It can't be helped".

The girl sighed, a wave of melancholy hitting her like a tidal wave. How could anyone live like this? It looked like hard enough work without the constant verbal abuse.

The girl felt her cellphone buzz, but when she took it out and looked at her phone's clock to check the time, she saw it was eight-thirty-five. If she didn't leave right now, there was no doubt she'd be late. On her first day. Definitely _not_ in the plan for success she'd prepped herself up this morning with. A new wave emotion hit her as she went into panic mode.

"I'm really sorry, but I have to get going right now or I'll be late for class! I'm so sorry, I wanted to stay and talk to you. Your cooking is amazing; don't let those bastards tell you otherwise! I'm Hinata; by the way, I'll see you around ok?" She shouted quickly as she packed up her things in a hurry.

The boy just stood shocked for a minute. But before the girl could run away –for all he knew forever- he shouted at her.

"Th-thanks! My name is Naruto!"

He grinned at her as she ran off smiling back at him. It was the first real grin he'd had in a while. His heart fluttered and the complaints of the customers seemed to go in one ear and out the other. He felt a lot better now. Perhaps they would meet again someday? He thought about the gun. Looks like we'll be holding off on dinner plans with it for at least until he knew for certain that he'd never meet her again, he though.


	2. Chapter 2

Nine o'clock, he gets off work now. Has to go to school and get an education; he promised them he would. Hell, maybe he'd even make something of himself. Making more money would help a lot. Never cared for the stuff, but it'd be easier to get by with more of it. Need school for that though.

He didn't hate school. He was hard to sit still, but years of rolled up newspapers and discipline wands helped motivate him. Teachers never really liked him. That was hard at first, but he learned to adapt. Keep quiet, do your work and no problems. Students didn't fancy him either. He tried to fit it, but that didn't work. Shut him out, ignored him. Bullies came and went, but never saw profit in torturing the kid. Used to fight back, after a while just gave up. No fun in that, so they moved on.

He started school later in the morning. Spare class until ten-fifteen. Gave him an hour to do bugger all. Tried to get more work but Teuchi told him he needed rest, so he decided to go to the park.

Found a nice tree to sit under. Leaves were starting to turn. That time of year again huh? The time used to excite him earlier in his life. Leaves changing colour, looked so pretty. And afterwards winter came. Not that they got much winter here, but as a kid any sign of snow excited him. Still felt a little giddy around the stuff. Now though he lost that childhood sense of wonder. Never knew why the allure left him. He still loved the season –liked the wind it always brought- but it wasn't the same as before. Sad.

Drew up his hood so no one would recognize him… hopefully; took out a pack of Hope cigarettes. Lit it, dragged, exhaled, repeat. Warm smoke filled his lungs, helped stave off the encroaching cold. Shivered a little. Must've dropped since he last checked.

Sat under the tree for a while. And old man dropped a few yen at the boy, but saw who he was and snatched it up again. He didn't really care, in fact he was half asleep. That's one thing he didn't particularly enjoy, how early he had to get up to go to work. But it paid the bills, and it helped old Teuchi out. He liked doing what he could for the man. Took care of him, so he took care back.

Took out his school books, might as well get some work done right? Coughing fit. Not from the smoking though. Had lungs of steel. Never knew why he wasn't as bad as some people. The Naras all hacked and wheezed all day. Good genes maybe? Ha, he knew what it was. How could he forget? Rest of the world never let him forget… No, the transition from warm air to cold air hurt his lungs; cold enough to see his breath. Something like minus four Celsius? Studying…

Ten o'clock now. He had to hurry to get on the train that took him to school. He had a car, shockingly enough. Couldn't use it though, too expensive to pay insurance or gas for. Thought about selling it, but it was a gift from a deceased mentor. Only person in this world that truly loved him more than Ayame. Like a grandfather. Would feel like betrayal to sell it, so he kept it parked behind his place. No one knew it was his, so it managed to stay in one piece. Too crappy to want to steal anyways. Manuel transmission.

Oh good, the train car he picked was empty. Always took the first or last car, least amount of people. Wished he could drive.

Ten minute train ride was all it took and he was at the front gates. Guard let him in with a scowl, but no real hassle today. Really was a good day wasn't it? Smiled to himself, days like these don't come along too often.

So far so good; her first class she had arrived at late because the principle had wanted to talk to her. Make sure she got her schedule and knew where everything was; took real special care of her. This kind of stuff usually happened for her, she was part of the main branch of the world-renowned Hyuuga family; a clan famous for producing immaculate martial artists, gymnasts and other Olympic class league athletes. Their eyes were uncanny and were an instant sign of one's heritage and subliminally demanded a level of respect akin to a superior. It's said that a Hyuuga learns to read a person before they learn to read a book.

So it would only be natural that the representative of the institute she'd be attending would want to cater to her and essentially kiss her ass as much as she could. Someone of her prestige could really influence the future of the school. Be it for better, or for worse. Traditionally, Hyuugas sabotaged or supported whimsically.

However, Hinata Hyuuga didn't think like this. She never flaunted her bloodline or abused the power it inherently came with. She was strong in her belief that the colour of your eyes doesn't mandate your class in society, however society often disagreed with her, much to her chagrin.

But as for first impressions, it seemed that she had made it well. She was a very shy and timid girl, but for today she hyped herself up and made sure that that wouldn't be the impression she left. And it worked. She stood up straight, introduced herself clearly and confidently, and made the teacher's acquaintance.

Immediately she was seated next to a group of girls who seemed like the typical high school clique. There was the cliché drama queen blonde, a pink haired –oddly enough- studious type and an athletic brunette girl. Not a bad group. Didn't look like the type to go to outrageous parties and do dangerous things –sans the blonde- but also didn't look like a group of squares. They all hit it off right off the bat. Hinata's shyness reared its ugly head and she didn't make too much conversation –the blonde was really intimidating her- but responded enough to make for pleasant chat. She noticed that she got on really well with the pinkette.

"So, where're you from? I haven't seen you around, but this place is full of Hyuugas" the pink haired girl -Hinata learned was named Sakura-asked.

"O-oh, I was born here but raised in the land of lightning, kumogakure. I came back to attend this specific academy" she replied timidly.

"What?! No way, that's so cool. Like in one of those _**cliché rich-kid fan fictions**_ I've read. So you're like, a foreigner right? I was wondering where that accent came from" the blonde known as Ino spurted out, clapping her hands together excitedly. Total ditz, Hinata thought.

"Oh really? I heard it's a lot colder up there this time of year, they're so far up north" Tenten spoke up. Hinata liked this one a lot too. Well, comparatively to solitude. Not really her type, but she could tell this girl was real.

"Yeah, w-well we get hit by the tsuchi Jetstream about this time. Our winters yield little snow but are very cold. The altitude does nothing for that" she explained lightheartedly.

"yeah, but doesn't Kumo have the top rated prep school in the five great nations? Why would you want to come back here?" Sakura inquired. This definitely piqued the girls' interests.

"M-my father wanted to make sure that I learned where the traditional homeland of my people is. He said that there are things I could only learn in Konoha, and that too many secrets could be revealed in Kumo" She said mystically. She enjoyed romanticizing it. The reactions were always funny.

"Get. Out. That's so crazy! That's some illuminati grade conspiracy you got going on" Ino replied ecstatically.

"Haha, yeah i-it is a bit of a story to tell" Hinata shrugged.

"Oh hey class is over in like, two minutes. Which class do you have next Hinata?" Sakura asked nonchalantly.

"Oh um, medical chemistry with Miss Shizune I believe." she responded, idly tapping her chin as she remembered.

"No way! I have that too!" Sakura screeched in that annoying girly manner that had always secretly annoyed Hinata to her core. But she'd let it slide. For now… *Gasp*

"Aha, good you can show me where it is then" Hinata chuckled sheepishly scratching the back of her head.

"No problem, it's just a brisk walk halfway across campus… in building c…" Sakura grimaced. They were in building a. "On the third floor…" smack. Hinata's head hit the desk.

The school they were in was a massive prep school designed to cater to a multitude of academic needs for preparation for post-secondary education. It was the largest in the country and the third largest in the five great nations, housing close to around fifteen thousand students.

The only publically funded private public school in probably all of ever; the first principle wanted to make sure that a high level of education was available to all and not just the rich and the privileged. It even provided housing and food for students whose families' couldn't afford to supply it (in exchange that the student worked part time to earn it in one of a wide variety of jobs).

The institute campus was comprised of eleven school buildings, one massive recreational facility, three sports fields and two sports team dorms. The school had a major focus on the martial arts, having an entire building dedicated to the programs. The entire place was built with design in mind, but functionality foremost and so looked rather bland in comparison to some of the flashier mega-schools across the great nations.

All in all, not a terrible place to be, but without question a confusing situation for sure.

"Come on, let's get this pilgrimage over with" Sakura sighed, lifting herself up from her desk. Hinata nodded solemnly and followed in the pinkette's footsteps.

He climbed up the stairs of the 'studies in health' building. They were shallow, and steep, and went on forever… Why the hell did he take medical chemistry? Sure, he was decent at chemistry, but he couldn't afford to be a doctor. Besides, he was –unfortunately- better suited to be doing the hurting rather than the healing. He was on the judo and karate teams (of which the karate team he worked part time as a student teacher) and sometimes sent people to the hospital. It was another keying in factor to why the bullying stopped.

He got to the door just as the bell rang. Last one to enter the class room, just seconds before the door slammed shut. Shizune was teaching. She was also one of the few people who liked him. Loved him; Had known him for years and saw him as a little brother. Factored in a little bit to him choosing the class.

Walks over to his desk robotically and sits down, paying no mind to anything besides his notebook. Was sketching the park scenery. Didn't want to forget it. Didn't even notice when the door knocked and two girls rushed in panting and apologizing furiously to the teacher and begging for forgiveness. The teacher was hard on tardy students, hated it worse than cow tongue and green onions.

So wrapped up in his activity, never even noticed who walked in. Or where they were seated…

She and Sakura had raced with everything they'd had to get to class on time. Lord knows the horrors their teacher would bind them with should they arrive but a second late respective to the bell. Busted through crowds of innumerable people (Hinata being the shy and timid girl she was had to apologize to everyone the bumped into) and all across the campus to get to the other side where building c was. And then the stairs… Oh god the stairs… Designed for maximum physical exertion over the longest period of time to keep students in shape, the corridors of KSPA were infamous among students for their soul-sapping tread. Kumo had ramps…

They would have taken twice as long had she not been dragged by the wrist and sprinting. They weaved, dodged, zigzagged –and the Hyuuga even flipped over someone- their way through the crowd.

They were there, they were finally going to reach the class before- the bell… _SLAM_

"Fuck" Sakura cursed.

"Wh-what now? Will we be in trouble?" she asked worriedly.

"Yup"

"… … … Fuck" Hinata cursed as well. Definitely not in her plans for a perfect first impression. Sorry future perfect life, maybe next incarnation.

Sakura knocked on the door. No answer. Knocked again, a lot harder. Still no answer. Third time- door opens, Falcon Pawnch the teacher in the face. /ಠ_ಠ

"Uwaa! I'm so so so so so so so sorry! Sorry sorry sorry-"Sakura apologized frivolously to the teacher's un-amused expression as she rubbed her nose where she'd been punched.

The teacher saw her standing behind the pink headed girl. Never seen her before, but without a doubt a Hyuuga; purple hair too, rare trait of the main branch family. She decided to let it slide just this once in case she was a prissy one.

"It's okay Sakura, it was just an accident." Shizune said, stifling her annoyance. "But, you are still late. As such, pages 101-158 tonight. I want them read for tomorrow. To answer the questions that will be on the test. That will be in class. That you will not be late to." She actually did let them off light this time. Normally she'd give them ten pages-double sided of course- of biochemistry homework on top of what they were expected to do in class. Plus ten push-ups!

She let them in and Sakura apologized fervently again as well as Hinata who sought to make sure that the woman knew she was sincere and totally not a rebel-delinquent-skipper-anarchist-dropout-terrori st. Any of those things would be terrible for the image she wanted to present.

Teacher reassured them that all was forgiven so long as they got their work done, and Sakura rushed off to her seat. Hinata just stared blankly at the teacher. Where was she supposed to sit again?

Asked the teacher about it. Shizune thought about it for a bit, saw that she was kind hearted and probably new in town. Must mean she hasn't had a chance to hear about Naruto. Maybe they'll make nice with each other and the kid would be less of a depressing sight? Grow close as friends, go out, break up, go back out, be adorable, marry, have like… a hundred kids and- Knew where she'd be sending the girl to sit.

"There's a chair over there" she gestured over to the two empty spots beside Naruto –one on either side of him- nonchalantly. Inwardly she was giddy as hell thinking about how she just totally hooked that dude up.

Hinata had no quarrels with it, the guy looked a little sketchy but nothing really scary. Looked lonely actually.

Walked over to the desk, pulled the chair out and sat down; swung her bag around the back of the seat.

Wait a minute, who was beside her? Had she seen him before? His presence seemed so familiar…

No way-

**A/N:**

**This chapter I found went ok, but not great. Not too much development, but that's because I want that all to happen next chapter. Which will be released soon… hopefully. **

**Anyways; comments questions or concerns? Drop a review. Always appreciated. **


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